With Baited Breath
by TheShoelessOne
Summary: Neither of them will admit it, but it's true. Everyone can see it, so why can't they? Advice, meetings, and ice cream. Chapter 2 up! RHr
1. Grangers and Weasleys

AN: I'm apologizing before hand in case the characters seem out-of-character. This is my first real Harry Potter fic (outside poetry) and I'm really looking forward to seeing how it's recieved. Also, I have to note that I don't know exactly when in the series this takes place. In fact, it doesn't really have a place. It's more AU than cannon in that way, I guess. Not quite AU... I'm rambling. Sorry. Just trying to sort it all out in my own poor throbbing head. Any way, I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter One: Grangers and Weasleys**  
  
_Hermione,  
  
Good news! Mum and Dad agreed on when you and Harry can come to the Burrow! They were thinking about the week of Harry's birthday, if that sounds about right to you. Bill, Charlie and the twins sent an owl each, and they didn't make any promises, but they might show up while you're staying. That is, if your parents let you, of course. If not, we might have to connect your fireplace to the Floo Network for a day. We're going to be in Diagon Alley this Friday to pick up school things, so try to meet us there. I've written to Harry, but not sure if he'll make it out of the house with those Muggles around (no offence, Mr. and Mrs. Granger!). Send an owl soon, before my parents change their minds!  
  
Hoping you can make it,  
Ron  
_  
Hermione's hand was absent-mindedly stroking Pig's feathers as she read the short letter. Not that Ron's letters were usually as loquacious as she'd like. But she smiled nonetheless. She re-read the last few lines three more times before Pig nipped her finger in anticipation. She gasped slightly, recoiling from the tiny owl and dropping the letter to the ground. Giving a stern look at Ron's miniature owl, she took up the letter and began walking down the stairs to the kitchen, where she could hear her parents breakfasting. Pig landed on her shoulder with a strangled hoot and began hopping around madly.   
  
"Honestly, Pigwidgeon, if you can't control yourself, I'll write a mile-long letter and make you carry it all the way to the Burrow." For a moment, the thought that she wouldn't mind writing a mile-long letter to Ron crossed her mind, but she shook her head. But it had certainly calmed Pig a few degrees. Quickly, like the pace of her heart, Hermione shuffled down the stairs and turned into the kitchen. The smell of bacon and slightly burnt toast filled her senses, and she knew that her father had cooked breakfast. Her mother looked up as she entered the room, and a glittering smile met their only daughter.  
  
"Good morning, Hermione!" Mrs. Granger said before she added another slab of butter to her toast. "My, you're up early..." Her eyes, so much like Hermione's, traveled to the excited owl on her shoulder. "And I see you've brought a friend, too! Would he like some toast?" Mrs. Granger pulled a bit of crust off of her buttered toast and lay it gently on the table near Pig. He hooted and leapt from Hermione's shoulder, consuming the scraps as if he had not eaten for days.  
  
"And what has Ron sent you this morning?" Mr. Granger asked as he moved away from the sink, where he was washing his plate. Hermione smiled and looked to where Pig was gnawing on the bread crust. Was it unusual that her parents knew exactly who had sent her something just by the owl? No, it wasn't. Pig wasn't a normal owl, and Ron was a normal boy either. Birds of a feather....  
  
"Actually, he's sent me an invitation," Hermione answered as she pulled up the chair next to her mother and sat, showing Mrs. Granger the parchment with Ron's scratchy handwriting on it. Mrs. Granger's smile lit up at the mention of her name. "I think we'll be throwing a bit of a party for Harry." Mr. Granger chuckled softly.  
  
"I was wondering when he'd be inviting you back over, Hermione," he said as he sat down across from his daughter. Strangely, Hermione felt a raw blush rise to her cheeks, which she tried to hide by leaning forward onto the table with her elbows and resting her face in her hands.  
  
"What do you mean, Dad?" She asked innocently.  
  
"Well, that boy sends invitations nearly every summer, and even if you couldn't join him, he's sent you an owl at least every week." He exchanged a glance with his wife, whose eyes sparkled mysteriously. Hermione looked nervously around at her parents.  
  
"What?" When they didn't answer, she asked again. "What?"  
  
"Nothing, dearest," Mr. Granger said, that smile still lighting his face. He took the parchment from Mrs. Granger and looked it over quickly. His eyes hovered on the bottom of the letter for a few moments, then he looked up at his wife. "Well, dear, what do you suppose we should do?"  
  
"Hermione _has_ been doing all of her chores..."  
  
"And helping around the house..."  
  
"And cleaning up after Crookshanks..."  
  
"Does that mean that I can go?" Hermione asked quickly, glancing from one adult to the other. Mr. Granger rolled up the parchment and handed it back to Hermione.  
  
"I have a deal to make with you," her father said to her, his eyes alive with thought. "You write back to Ron, tell him that we will meet his family as we always have in Diagon Alley, and you promise me," his voice became grave, "that you will buy an extraordinary gift for Harry." Hermione sighed in relief. Before her parents could say anything more, or perhaps change their minds, Hermione was out of her seat, Pig grasped firmly in her hand.  
  
"Thank you Mum! Thank you Dad!" She was dashing up the stairs, and she had already shut her door and pulled out a spare piece of parchment and quill before she noticed that she was squeezing the life out of poor Pigwidgeon. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Pig!" She said profusely, helping to un-ruffle the small owl's feathers. It seemed as though he soon forgot the incident, however, as he began zooming around Hermione's room, avoiding the paws of Crookshanks. Dipping her quill in her relatively new bottle of purple ink, she began to write her response.  
  
_Ron,  
  
Turns out I have good news as well. My parents agreed to meet you in Diagon Alley on Friday! The only catch is that I absolutely must buy Harry a truly extraordinary birthday present. It would be wonderful if your brothers could make it, for I really do miss Fred and George. Hogwarts just isn't the same without them, somehow. I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone again, especially you and Harry. One thing I didn't miss, however, is your silly owl. I had to threaten him with a mile-long letter to you in order for him to shut his beak. I think that I should rescue him: I can see Crookshanks giving him the evil eye.   
  
I'll see you in Diagon Alley!  
Hermione  
_  
She carefully rolled the small bit of parchment and tied it fast with a blue ribbon to Pig's leg. She stared at the letter for a moment, regretting how short it was, pondering if she should write a new one and make it a bit longer. Before she could take the letter back, Pig hooted and took off flying into the morning air. Hermione took to the window after him, watching his flight in the air. The morning sun struck his gray feathers, and it made him look far more majestic than he actually ever could be. Sighing, Hermione threw herself down on the bed and stared at her ceiling. It wasn't enchanted, like the ceiling of the Great Hall, and therefore it was rather boring. She tried to imagine in her mind what this beautiful morning would be like at Hogwarts, closing her eyes slowly.  
  
The ceiling would have been dabbled with orange and yellow sunbeams, the slightest tint of blue lingering in the light cloud cover. A star or two would have still decorated these dark patches, and a breath of wind would have carried the clouds gently away. She would have breathed in the freshest of morning air and exhaled deeply with a smile. To her right would have been Harry Potter, yawning widely after studying for a Charms exam all night. To her left would have been red-headed Ron Weasley, who, after just rising from bed, would have been Bed-Headed Ron Weasley.   
  
A real smile flitted across Hermione Granger's face as she lay on her bed, hugging her pillow and dreaming of Hogwarts. Her parents had to call up to her five times before she realized that she had dozed off. It meant that she got extra chores, but she didn't care. She was happy, thinking about school, about Diagon Alley, but mostly, her friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

-----------

Ron Weasley was asleep.  
  
He was sitting at his desk, surrounded on all sides by the Chudley Cannons, who were zooming around the posters covering his walls. Ron's eyes were shut fast, and his breathing was steady and deep. In his hand was clutched a tatty quill, and under his face was a clean sheet of parchment. He didn't want to wake up from his dream. It was a good dream. He wasn't even really sure what it was about, but it was better than listening to his sister prattle on about how she would wear her hair for Harry's party. It was especially better than that annoying knocking sound. What was that? Ron grimaced in his sleep and switched to the other side of his face. The knocking sound continued.  
  
"Idonwannagetup..." Ron muttered thickly, sleep still resting heavily on him. With a great bang, the ghoul in the attic struck a pipe, knocking Ron from his chair in surprise. There was a flutter of wings, and the knocking continued. Ron picked himself up off the floor and worked the elbow he hand landed on. "Bloody hell..." he breathed, moving to the window to see where that knocking was coming from.  
  
As soon as he opened the window to get a peek at what was happening outside, he was bowled over by a ball of gray feathers. Sputtering, he reeled back in time to see Pig zipping just under the ceiling. There was a letter attached to the owl's tiny leg, and Ron jumped up to grab it from the over-excited owl. It hooted and screeched as Ron tore the ribbon loose and unrolled the parchment.  
  
"At least the bloody bird's good for something," Ron mumbled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glaring at Pig sitting in his cage. Looking now at the parchment, Ron knew that he should have guessed who sent it. Harry wouldn't tie his letter with a ribbon, let alone one that was so obviously feminine. Ron tore his eyes over Hermione's answer, pausing only once to re-read a sentence or two. He frowned slightly. She missed Fred and George? Sure, they were likable enough but... Determined, Ron moved on. Aha! She missed him, she admitted it! Ron read the rest of the letter with a surly smirk of smugness, his eyes doing a double take as he read about the mile-long letter. For only a moment, he thought that he might not mind reading a mile-long letter from Hermione, but he shook his head.  
  
Grabbing an owl treat and stuffing it into Pig's beak, Ron clutched the letter in his hand and left his room in an orange blur.  
  
"MUM!" He called loudly as he flew down five flights of crooked, rickety stairs, jumping the last three steps in his way. A flustered Molly Weasley was standing next to the chair where Ginny sat, moodily combing her hair back. Mrs. Weasley gave a strange look to Ron.  
  
"_What_, Ronald?" She waved her wand at the dishes, and they began to wash themselves. Ron, not noticing that the two women were dressed and he was still bedecked in his pajamas, held forward the letter from Hermione.  
  
"Mum, Hermione's answered. Said she'd meet us in Diagon Alley on Friday!"  
  
"Oh, well that's good news, dear," Mrs. Weasley said with a strained smile, dashing around the kitchen and enchanting the objects around her to begin the chores. She had seemed rather strained since they decided to host Harry's birthday at the Burrow. Ginny looked up at her older brother, a smile on her previously sour face.  
  
"Has Harry sent his answer yet?" She asked. Ron pulled a face at her. He was about to find a clever way to retort, when he heard two identical voices behind him.  
  
"He could care less if Harry doesn't come to his own surprise party," said one of the voices.  
  
"Yeah, Ginny, don't you know that he stayed up all night waiting for Pig to come back with _her_ answer?" The second voice taunted. Ron whirled around to see Fred and George, identical smiles stretched over their identical faces. To his horror, his own face was burning red and probably glowing. The twins glanced at each other, wicked smiled carved on their features.  
  
"Wh-when did you two get here?" Ron asked, inwardly cursing his own stammering.  
  
"Last night," Fred said with a wave of his wand. "Apparated."  
  
"Outside your room," George added, his own wand out.  
  
"Listened to you scratch away all bloody night."  
  
"Had to put a Silencing Charm on each other to keep from waking everyone."  
  
"It was worth it, though!"  
  
By now, the color of Ron's face had surpassed that of his flaming hair as Fred and George bantered back and forth. At this time, George had clenched his hands together and brought them to his cheek, batting his eyes merrily.  
  
"'That is, if your parents let you, of course.'" George said in a decidedly higher voice. Fred copied his twin's movements.  
  
"'If not, we might have to connect your fireplace to the Floo Network for a day.'" Fred added in an equally high voice. Ron was gritting his teeth by now.  
  
"'Hope you can make it,'" Both of them chorused at once. "_Love_, Ron!" The two of them burst into a gale of laughter, obviously very pleased with themselves. Ron clenched and unclenched his fists in rapid succession, trying to decide whether it was worth it to try and hex them both.  
  
"Fred! George!" Mrs. Weasley's voice came from behind Ron. Their laughter died slowly, and they wiped tears from their eyes. "Now boys, if you can't behave I'm going to lock you in with the ghoul." She took the comb from Ginny and began running it through her daughter's hair, even though it was already perfectly fine. Fred slapped Ron on the back.  
  
"Don't take it personal, little brother," he said, glancing back at George. He, too, gave Ron a slap to the back.  
  
"We're just so proud to see our little man growing up!" George's voice was choked with fake tears. Ron was almost sure that the twins had left up the stairs, and so he turned to his mother, ready to converse with her about the trip to Diagon Alley in three days, when...  
  
"_Accio Letter_!" Fred's voice called from the stairwell. The parchment flew from Ron's hand with a suddenness that caused a paper cut on his palm. The last thing he saw was two lanky red-heads dashing up the stairs madly, his letter from Hermione in Fred's hand. It took him a moment to realize that it was gone. But as soon as it hit him, he was off.  
  
"FRED! GEORGE! COME BACK HERE, YOU BLOODY-!!" He yelled after them, tearing up the steps to the twins' old room. Mrs. Weasley's voice was shouting something from below, but Ron was too incensed to care. He could already hear them. And, damn! Their door was locked!  
  
"_Alohamora_!" Ron tried futilely. There was a charm on the lock. All he could do was sit and listen, wincing at their words.  
  
"'I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone again, especially you and Harry!' Aww, look, Ronnie, you get top billing over Harry!" George's voice rang jovially.  
  
"'It would be wonderful if your brothers could make it, for I really do miss Fred and George.' Look, George, she misses us! Isn't that sweet?" Fred observed in a high voice.  
  
"After all, it's not Hogwarts without us!"  
  
"Give me back my letter!" Ron shouted, bristling in front of their door.  
  
"When we're done with it!" George shouted back.   
  
"Keep your pajamas on, Ronnie!" Fred taunted. Ron blushed furiously.  
  
"Molly, what's going on?" Mr. Weasley had obviously just Apparated in the kitchen, hearing the commotion.  
  
"Arthur, your sons-"  
  
"You two, give it back or I'll-"  
  
"You'll blow down the door and hex us into oblivion?" Fred asked, laughing.  
  
"No, he'll sic his little feathery tennis ball on us! I _know_ that Dad has a Muggle tennis racket in here _some_where..." George shuffled about the room.  
  
"FRED! GEORGE!!"  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Arthur!"  
  
"Dad!"  
  
"Fred!"  
  
"Mum!"  
  
"Ronnie!"  
  
"George!"  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
"DAD!!"  
  
"_Finite Incantato_!"  
  
The lock on the door to the twins' room sprung open, and so did the actual door. Fred and George were hunched over the tiny piece of parchment that was signed by Hermione Granger. Arthur Weasley, circles under his eyes, stood in the doorway, his wand out. Ron stood slightly behind him, his face redder than any of them had ever seen it. Everyone was still for moments on end. Finally, Fred stood to his full height, looking directly at his father.  
  
"Dad, did you know that Hermione is spending the rest of the summer here?"  
  
"Says so right here," George offered, showing him the paper. Except, to Ron's horror, that it now read like this:  
  
_ Turns out I have good news as well. My parents agreed to meet you in Diagon Alley on Friday! The only catch is that **I pledge my love to Ron Weasley for all time, and then some. And** I really do miss Fred and George. Hogwarts just isn't the same without them, somehow. **That's probably because they got all the brains and good looks out of the gene pool.  
  
All my love forever,**  
Hermione  
_  
Ron's face contorted in anger as he stared at the altered parchment, then at his brothers. They were smiling. He was not. With a growl, Ron wrenched the paper from their grasp and stormed upstairs, slamming the door behind him and wishing that he knew that charm to lock doors. 


	2. Together Again

**Chapter Two: Together Again  
**  
Hermione didn't realize that she was fussing with her collar until her father patted her shoulder gently.  
  
"You look fine, darling," Mr. Granger whispered kindly. Hermione dropped her hand quickly, instead focusing on dragging her trunk after her. Crookshanks sat atop the huge Hogwarts trunk, scowling at the passer-bys that walked past the family of three. Hermione was looking at her feet now, embarrassed that she had been caught being nervous. She didn't even notice when they walked up to the Muggle entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. She didn't even notice when they walked past Tom, the bartender, and so many more people she would have recognized. Only when her mother's voice penetrated through the clouds of her thoughts did she look up again.  
  
"Hermione, dear, get your wand out..." Hermione looked up, and she saw that they were facing the brick wall that would take them to Diagon Alley. Shaking the surrounding clouds from her mind, Hermione drew her wand from her pocket and tapped the correct bricks in succession. Noisily, the bricks shifted their positions to make a wide arch through which the three of them traversed. As if someone had breathed new life into her, Hermione straightened up and a grin spread across her face. She was back.  
  
Laughter, singing and talking rose high in the air, mingled for a few moments, then dispersed above the rooftops. Everywhere, there was an electric feeling of excitement, escalated by the thrill deep in Hermione's chest that she would be seeing her friends again after so long. The day was bright, the sky was blue, and not a cloud obscured the lovely view before her. Practically skipping, Hermione lugged her trunk down the main street of Diagon Alley.  
  
The items gleaming from the other side of the windows glittered happily at her, and everywhere she went, she was greeted with the reflection of her own smiling face and long bushy hair. She spotted Neville Longbottom, waving to him genially. He waved timidly back, smiling. Beside him was his grandmother, bedecked in yet again another outrageous outfit. Hermione suppressed a giggle and moved on. More faces in the crowd became distinguishable. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, seemingly inseparable; Ernie MacMillian followed by the pretty Hannah Abbot; Her own fellow Gryffindor girls Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil waved to her from the Magical Menagerie, where Hermione suspected one of them may have been buying a pet.  
  
There were two very important faces that she hadn't spotted yet. She stood on tiptoe to see if she could somehow spot the black-haired Harry and the tall red-head Ron over any of the other people in the crowded street. No luck. Frowning, she turned to her parents. They smiled.  
  
"Hermione, you keep looking for Ron," Mr. Granger said as he squeezed her shoulder gently. "We'll be in Flourish and Blott's getting your schoolbooks, okay?" Hermione forced a smile.  
  
"Okay."  
  
She took another quick look around her, and began heading back to the Leaky Cauldron. Maybe she'd wait there, have a drink, and if Ron didn't show up in an hour, she would go looking for him again.  
  
---------------  
  
"All right there, Arthur?" Tom asked from the bar as Arthur Weasley emerged from the fireplace, covered in soot. He brushed himself off, setting his hat back into the correct position atop his head with a smile and a nod.  
  
"Yes, Tom, thank you." He stepped back from the fireplace quickly, for he had an idea that another Weasley would be coming not too soon after.   
  
"A bit early this year, Arthur? Not usual you do your Hogwarts shopping until later in the month, ain't it?" Tom asked as he served a drink to a particularly ugly witch. Mr. Weasley smiled again. He would have answered if Ron had not flown out of the fireplace at that time, dirtier than Mr. Weasley before him. He coughed, exhaling a cloud of ash and rubbing it from his eyes.  
  
"Blimey," Ron muttered, dusting the ash from his body. "Stand back, Dad. Fred's coming right after me." Sure enough, Fred, followed closely by George and finally Ginny, emerged sooty and black from the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace. Ginny had the worst of it, her entire face blackened. George tried to wipe her face with his cloak, but only managed to smear more over her face.  
  
"Cut it, George!" Ginny bellowed, feeling at the clips holding her hair in place.  
  
"If you lot need it, you can use the loo to clean up. I 'spect you're meeting up with someone?" Tom gestured. Ron's ears were aflame, looking everywhere but at Fred and George, who were sniggering. They knew that Ron had gotten up earlier than anyone else in the Burrow had, staring in the mirror and willing for his hair to be normal. Ron shoved past the two of them, unconsciously trying to fix his mussed-up hair as he strode toward the lavatory. Once there, he wiped his face clean and tried his best to get his hair to lay just right. The door opened, and two sets of feet clamored in unceremoniously.  
  
"Ron," George said as he came up behind Ron and stared into the mirror to meet his brother's eyes. "We need to have a talk." Fred took Ron's shoulder in his hand and nodded at his twin.  
  
"It's a talk that we all must go through." They both lifted Ron off of his feet and set him down on the sink ledge, staring pointedly at him.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, raising one eyebrow. The twins looked at each other with the same smile.  
  
"Women," they both said at once. The younger boy's face did two things at once: flushed brilliantly and furrowed into a look of anger.  
  
"Look, Ron, you can't hide anything from us," Fred said with a waggling finger.  
  
"We're your brothers, and we know exactly-"  
  
"No, no you don't," Ron grunted as he lifted himself off of the ledge.   
  
"Trust us, we know a lot about women," George said, making sure that Ron couldn't leave. "Everything you need to know."  
  
"And some things you wish you didn't," Fred added with a mischievous smile. George cuffed him over the head and turned back to Ron.  
  
"We know you've got a thing for Hermione," George said at last. Ron had known it was coming, but that didn't stop his whole face from looking like a tomato. He tried to push his way past his brothers.  
  
"Ridiculous... Just friends... Gerrout of my way..." Ron muttered and mumbled, but it was no use.  
  
"Just listen," Fred said, his patience wearing thin.  
  
"I'll be over in just a minute," George said quickly. "Listen, no point in denying it, _you like Hermione_." Before Ron could protest again, Fred continued.  
  
"First thing you _must_ remember, little brother, is that the more you seem uninterested, the more they want you."   
  
The horrible memory from the 4th year, asking Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball and getting the icy shoulder, flashed painfully in Ron's memory.  
  
"Women _love_ it when you compliment them. Lay it on thick. It pays off." The strange look in George's eye made Ron blanch.  
  
"Buy them things. Lots of ridiculous things."  
  
"If they want to dance, for all things good and holy, you better be dancing."  
  
"If you just pretend like you're listening, there's a good chance that they'll think you are."  
  
"And, most importantly-"  
  
"Boys," Mr. Weasley said as he entered the lavatory, "come now, we haven't got all day. Clean? Good, yes, come on..." Mr. Weasley paused only to wash his face clean of ash, and paraded the boys back out into the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
There she was.  
  
She hadn't seen him yet, but he sure had seen her. He knew that he had seen her dressed up before, at the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. She had looked wonderful then, but now she looked somehow... different. The way that the light filtered in through the yellowed windows and shone down upon her, or the way she flipped her head to move the ringlets of hair from her face. Then she turned, and it was as if the light in the room increased suddenly. Her smile filled her face, and Ron couldn't help but return it. Sure, she had looked beautiful before, but _then_, she had been beautiful for Vicky Krum. Now, she was beautiful for Ron. His smile widened.  
  
To Hermione, seeing Ron was like a warm drink after a long, cold night. She was filled with warmth all over, and it was as if nothing mattered. It didn't matter to her that Ron seemed at a loss for words around her. It didn't matter that she could hear Fred and George sniggering nearby. For even a moment, it didn't matter if Harry couldn't make it away from his aunt and uncle's house. All that mattered then was that she had finally found Ron Weasley... and that the fact made her happy. She saw Ron's smile, and she couldn't help but feel her own smile grow.  
  
"Hermione," Ron said at last, breaking the awkward silence that everyone knew had filled the air. We- ... We were just about to go look for you," he said, finding the right words eventually. Hermione dragged her trunk behind her as she walked up into the patch of red hair that was the Weasleys.   
  
"We were just looking for you," she said in a voice that sounded like a heavy sigh. Whether of relief or despair, Ron wasn't sure, but he hoped it was the former. "Mum and Dad are off in Flourish and Blott's, buying this years' school things. I thought I'd come back looking for you and-" She couldn't quiet find her words, so she simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled. She couldn't hold it in any longer, and she reached out and hugged every single Weasley in the establishment. "Oh, I've missed you all so much!"  
  
"We missed you too, 'Mione!" Fred said, receiving his hug.  
  
"Yes, after all, it's not Hogwarts without us," George said with an extra pat on the back to Hermione as she hugged him. Hermione gave him an odd look, wondering if Ron had showed her letter to everyone in the household. Finally, after hugging Ginny, she moved to embrace Ron. Ron's face blanched horribly, which was so terribly uncharacteristic of him that Hermione paused for only a fraction of a moment. But it was enough to register on the minds of the Twins, who shot each other glances with raised eyebrows. Hermione tried to think that she had imagined the change in Ron's face ash she hugged herself close to him. But as she pulled away, she noticed that her friend was oddly stiff and silent, merely patting her on the back in a friendly-type manner. Stepping back to fetch her trunk, she saw the corner or Ron's mouth twitch into an inkling of a smile.  
  
"Hermione," Mr. Weasley said after she had taken a firm hold on her trunk. "Did you say that your parents were in Flourish and Blott's?" His smile was inviting and calm. Hermione nodded genially. She had always liked Mr. Weasley. No... She had always loved all of the Weasleys. _Well_, she thought with a slight frown, _maybe not Percy_. But any of the other Weasleys was as lovable as the next, and without provocation, her eyes flicked to where Ron still stood rooted to the spot.  
  
"Yes," she said, looking away, back to Mr. Weasley. "They told me that any year without Gilderoy Lockhart books on the list was a good year." She heard a loud cough coming from Ron's direction, and she looked back over to him. His eyes were looking everywhere but at her, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. She knew that, normally, she would have done something rash. Perhaps rolled her eyes and scoffed at him. Maybe throw a taunt about Fleur into the air. But nothing came. Only a smile. This was the Ron she remembered. That was just the way that she liked him.  
  
"Well, we should be off then!" Mr. Weasley cried, making sure that he had rid most of the ash from his robes and straightening himself to full height. "Hate to keep them waiting, you know."  
  
As the six of them walked down Diagon Alley, Ron's voice seemed to return to him. And he seemed to have suddenly noticed everything around him, for he began talking to Hermione as if she had never been in the Wizarding world, let alone Diagon Alley. His finger pointed to where Hermione had seen Parvati and Lavender before, and she saw now that Parvati was cuddling a rather frightened looking tabby cat.  
  
"Hermione, do you remember when you bought that monster of a cat there?" He seemed to have forgotten that Crookshanks was with them, as the cat uttered a low hiss. Hermione raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What do you mean, 'monster of a cat'?" She asked in a dejected voice. Ron dropped his eyes to where Crookshanks sat perched atop Hermione's trunk.  
  
"Well... I mean... He's not... _Normal_."  
  
"Of _course_ not," Hermione cooed, petting her cat's scruffy fur. "Who on Earth would want a _normal_ cat?" Crookshanks seemed to find these words acceptable, and he purred in a rumbling voice. Ron was unconvinced. He was sure that something was very odd about that cat, but getting into a row with Hermione in the middle of Diagon Alley was not something he particularly wanted to do. So, instead, he jabbed his finger across Hermione's face at a store directly to her right.  
  
"You see that shop there? Quality Quidditch Supplies?" She saw the store he was referring to. Indeed, it was quite hard to miss. It was bedecked in England's Quidditch colors with a great assortment of brooms sitting in the great window out front. There were even a small number of brooms enchanted to fly just over the sign out front. As usual, there was a considerable crowd surrounding the window as children pressed their noses against the glass, hoping to get a better look at the newest, fastest brooms.  
  
"What about it?" She asked. She was rather sure that he didn't point it out just for the sake of doing so.  
  
"In their first year, Fred and George stood in front of that very window and created the greatest uproar I think Diagon Alley's ever seen," he said, retracting his arm back to his side. Hermione took another look at the window, seeing, in her mind, the young Weasley twins rolling on the ground, screaming as loud as one possibly could.  
  
"I couldn't possibly imagine," she said with a smile and a glance over her shoulder at the now grown Twins, who were conversing in whispers.  
  
"Oh yeah," Ron said dramatically, playing it out to its fullest. "I was only nine when it happened, but try to imagine this: Fred and George, only smaller, squeakier and about twenty times more annoying. On their knees begging Mum for a broom each. Going on and on about how _amazing_ the Comet 260 was."  
  
"Oh, Mum, can I _please_ have a Nimbus?" It was Fred. He had raised his voice again, this time in what Hermione realized was a very good impression of a young Ron. She and Ron watched as Fred and George moved in front of them, acting out a very different scene. George waggled a finger at Fred.  
  
"Ronald," George said in what must have been an imitation of their mother, "you know that we can't get you a new broom. You'll use Charlie's old broom or none at all!"  
  
"But _Muuuuum_..." Fred whined in his nasal Ron voice. Hermione was about to giggle, when she noticed that Ron's eyes were at his feet and his face was crimson. Her smile faded. Fred and George continued bantering back and forth as Ron and Mrs. Weasley, respectively, down the main street. Ron clenched his fists.  
  
"Great... Stupid... Prats..." He muttered between his teeth. "Always have to... Completely inappropriate time... Could have... Stupid... Gits..."  
  
"Ron?" Hermione's voice broke through the heat of his temporary hatred for the Twins, and he looked up.  
  
"Hermione! Ron! There you are!" The Grangers emerged from the crowd before them as if they had been standing there waiting. As he was scooped up in a hug from Mrs. Granger, Ron thought that perhaps they _had_ just been standing there... Hermione relieved her parents of the burden of her schoolbooks, lifted Crookshanks and placed the books neatly where he had been splayed. Carefully replacing her cat in his previous position, her father gave her the change from her books, which consisted of three Galleons, seven Sickles and five Knuts. As Mr. Weasley intercepted the Grangers, Hermione turned to the red-faced Ron and extended the money in her hand.  
  
"Hungry?" She asked, nodding toward Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. He wanted to shout, 'Yes! I'm starving! I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday!' but instead, as a slow smile crept over his face, he said:  
  
"I'm sure I could get through one cone, somehow."


End file.
